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J UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. f 



FAVORITE HYMNS 



ORIGINAL FORM. 



SELECTED AND VERIFIED 



Sw, WILLIAM LEONARD GAGE. 



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NEW YORK : - 

A. S. BARNES & Co, 
1874. 



T R LlrR RY 

Oi CoNHkESS 



WASHINGTON 






TO MY BRETHREN 

OF THE MINISTRY 

IN HARTFORD, 

THIS LITTLE BOOK IS INSCRIBED 

IN TOKEN OF WARM LOYE AND 

LEARTY ADMIRATlOlS. 



PREFACE. 



This book has been born out of my own curios- 
ity. Knowing that in all our modern hymn books 
we have many hymns rearranged, modified, or 
abridged, I desired to know for my own satisfac- 
tion, just how far these changes extend, and 
whether they are mutilations or improvements. 
The result has been a careful examination of 
hymns, and the bringing together in their original 
dress of those which I believe to be the chief 
favorites of American Christians. There are many 
others which are no less dear than those within 
these pages, but which find no place here, because 
they have been spared the touch of critics and 
hymn book compilers. Such, for example, are 
"Salvation! the joyful sound:" " Come, Holy 
Spirit, heavenly Dove : "* " My God, the Spring 



*I am convinced that the reading of the lines 

" Dear Lord and shall we ever lie 

At this poor dying rate," 
was a misprint in the early English editions of Watts, and should 
he charged to live, not as an improvement but as the correction 
of a typographical error. 



VI PREFACE. 

of all my joys : " " for a closer walk with God : " 
" God moves in a mysterious way: " " Nearer my 
God to Thee." These may have been changed ; 
but I have not met them other than their writers 
left them. Of the same general class of hymns 
are such as I have chosen: those which are known 
as widely as the English language is spoken. 
There are certain things which have come to us 
invested with associations so rich and tender, that 
we do not ask whether they are in themselves 
beautiful : their meaning to us is beauty enough. 
And these hymns are of them : for while some of 
them are perhaps lacking in the highest graces of 
expression, and are possibly a little hard and 
mechanical, they have been bathed in the great 
wave of Christian feeling and have come out 
therefrom sacred. They are, next to the Bible, 
the most precious possession of the church. I am 
not sure but they are the most precious possession 
of our language. It is a question which the Christ- 
ian would not like to see decided against him, 
which were the harder to lose from our literature, 
the writings of Shakespeare or those hymns which 
have fed the hope and inspired the faith of so 
many generations of saints. 

The really great and noble hymns are few. It 



PREFACE. Vll 

would surprise one not used to the task, to turn 
over the hundreds of the verses of Watts and 
Doddridge, and the Wesleys, and see how small is 
the residue which the world will not willingly let 
die. Those strains which pass the ordeal provided 
by one of the Church fathers as the test of sound 
doctrine, " what is accepted everywhere, at all 
times and by every one," would limit our hymnol- 
ogy to very narrow bounds. Few of our writers 
have produced more than a half-dozen really supe- 
rior hymns : indeed, with the exception of Watts 
and Doddridge, and possibly of Charles Wesley, 
none have done so. Our choicest Christian spirits 
have economized this gift with rare thrift ; and 
have condensed their wealth into most portable 
and accessible vessels. And this is the more 
strange when w^e remember that almost all cel- 
ebrated hymns, as well as those not celebrated, 
have been thrown off in a heat : many of them by 
Christian ministers at the close of a sermon. They 
were not thought of as having any special worthi- 
ness : and doubtless their writers would be more 
amazed than we, could they now see, that all the 
world is singing what came to them in some gush 
of feeling, and dropped molten from their pens. 
The test of this will be found in the crude 



Vlll PREFA CE. 

forms of many of these hymns. And I hope this 
little book will do for others what it has done for 
me, in reconciling the reader to the changes which 
modern taste has made in well-known hymns. It 
is the fashion of some to decry the custom of 
"doctoring" our standard hymns; yet I cannot 
doubt that he who examines this book, while glad 
to have in accessible form the original of many 
strains that he loves, will have little desire to go 
back to tli e old form. 

The simple fact is that our older English hymn 
writers did not possess that trained ear for rhythm 
which is a distinguishing mark of our time. In 
Germany, Schiller and Goethe introduced a new 
era in melodious versification : and their contem- 
poraries in England did a similar service to Eng- 
lish poetry : and now the advance in this direc- 
tion lias become so great that it would seem im- 
possible for language to be a more dainty and 
exquisite medium of melodious sound than it is 
in the hands of Tennyson and Longfellow. Such 
men as Doddridge and Watts had no such training: 
their lines seem harsh in this age of perfect ver- 
sification : and there are many men whose tact 
and taste are so nicely cultivated that they can 
add to the graces of those hastily written hymns 



PREFACE. IX 

which men like Watts and Doddridge dashed off 
at the close of a sermon. 

Besides, we have advanced to a time when the 
old would be the new : 1 mean, that the changes 
which have been made, have become a part of our 
life, and to bring back the original form would 
itself produce a shock to the sense of devoutness. 
To take up the line in Toplady's Rock of Ages: 
" When my eyestrings break in death," and attempt 
to bring it back instead of " When my eyelids 
close in death," would of course produce a painful 
sense of novelty. True, the original is far stronger 
and finer : it is poetry, while the modernized ver- 
sion is prose ; flat and unsuggestive : an instance 
of change which has been no improvement. But 
the change has been made : and as the hymn 
books copy mainly from one another, the forms in 
which they are current has become tantamount to 
the original. 

I have brought into this selection some hymns 
where the changes have been very slight, and yet 
are interesting. Such for instance is Heber's 
Missionary Hymn, where the words Ceylon's isle, 
were originally Java's isle. A larger class are 
those where I have given the whole hymn : that 
which we sing, not being greatly changed, but 



PREFA CE. 



taken out of its connection and unity, and largely 
reduced in length. 

I have no doubt that some persons, were they 
engaged on this task, would have greatly extended 
it beyond the limits which I have assumed. There 
are many, very many well-known hymns, which 
are found in all our collections, and to which 
I have not given a place here. Had I purposed 
to print the originals of all well-known hymns, 
this book would have greatly outgrown its present 
size. I have faithfully tried to gather within these 
covers what a catholic taste would accept as the. 
prime favorites of the church. Of course I have 
passed over the recent rich additions to our hym- 
nology, except to give in their full form a few of 
the best. For though Ave are leaving behind us 
the era of Cowper and Newton and Watts, let it 
not be thought that the church is losing its gift 
of song. It seems to me, that in the elements of 
tenderness and devoutness, if not in the grand 
uplift and thrill of the older hymn writers, noth- 
ing finer has come from the hearts of men, than 
" Abide with me, fast falls the even-tide ; " " Sun 
of my soul thou Saviour dear ; " "I heard the 
voice of Jesus say;" "Lead kindly Light, amid 
th' encircling gloom ; " " Nearer my God to Thee ; " 



PREFACE, XI 

"Father, I know that all my life." Hymns like 
these and others not inferior to them, are the 
earnest of the Spirit, and the assurance that 
hymns can no more die out of the Church than 
can the deep and full experience of the love of 
Christ. Such names as Heber, and Milman, and 
the Carys, and Bonar, and Keble, and Kelly, 
and Grant, and Coxe, and Palmer, and Lyte, and 
Elliott, and Steele, and Waring, and Kimball, 
and Seagrave,and Neale are enough, even without 
the scores that might be added to them ; we need 
no more evidence than they furnish, that we have 
not dropped behind the last century in this great 
gift. 

In conclusion I would express my grateful ac- 
knowledgments to those friends who have re- 
sponded to my request to send me lists of their 
favorite hymns, and whose judgment has been a 
corroboration of my own. More especially let me 
mention Rev. William Fleming Stevenson, of 
Dublin, Ireland, whose labors in the department 
of poetical biography have been so serviceable to 
me in the preparation of this book. In the library 
of Harvard College I found a unique collection of 
hymnological words : and I am under special 



Xll PREFACE. 



indebtedness to Mr. Sibley for the use of them. 
Still greater are my obligations to Sir Roundel 
Palmer's Book of Praise : which has been to me 
a great comfort and a great help at every stage of 
the undertaking. 

W. L. GAGE. 
Hartford, Dec. 4 5 18TS. 



Fayoeite Hymets 

IN THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 



I. 

OGOD of Jacob, by whose hand 
Thine Israel still is fed, 
Who through this weary pilgrimage 
Hast all our fathers led, 

To Thee our humble vows we raise, 
To Thee address our prayer, 
And in Thy kind and faithful breast, 
Deposit all our care. 

If Thou, through each perplexing path, 
Wilt be our constant guide : 
If Thou wilt daily bread supply, 
And raiment wilt provide : 



FA VORITE HYMNS IN 

If Thou wilt spread thy shield around, 
Till these our wanderings cease. 
And at our Fathers loved abode, 
Our souls arrive in peace : 

To Thee as to our Covenant God, 
We '11 our whole selves resign : 
And count that not our tenth alone, 
But all we have is Thine. 

Philip Doddridge, b. 1702, d. 1751. 



II. 

AS when the weary traveller gains 
The height of some o'erlooking hill, 
His heart revives, if 'cross the plains 
He eyes his home though distant still. 

While he surveys the much loved spot, 
He slights the space that lies between : 
His past fatigues are now forgot, 
Because his journey's end is seen. 

Thus, when the Christian pilgrim views, 
By faith, his mansion in the skies, 
The sight his fainting strength renews, 
And wings his speed to reach the prize. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 7 

The thought of home his spirit cheers, 
No more he grieves for troubles past ; 
Nor any future trial fears, 
So he may safe arrive at last. 

'Tis (here, he says, I am to dwell 
With Jesus in the realms of clay: 
Then I shall bid my cares farewell, 
And He shall wipe my tears away. 

Jesus on Thee our hope depends, 
To lead us on to Thine abode : 
Assured our home will make amends 
For all our toil while on the road. 

John Newton, b. 1725, d. 1807. 



III. 
3r I ^IS my happiness below 

JL Not to live without the cross, 
But the Saviour's power to know, 
Sanctifying every loss. 
Trials must and will befall : 
But with humble faith to see 
Love inscribed upon tin an all — 
This is happiness to me. 



FA VORITE HY31NS IN 

God in Israel, sows the seeds 
Of affliction, pain and toil ; 
These spring up and choke the weeds 
Which would else o'erspread the soil. 
Trials make the promise sweet: 
Trials give new life to prayer : 
Trials bring me to His feet. 
Lay me low, and keep me there. 

Did I meet no trials here, 
No chastisement by the way. 
Might I not with reason fear 
I should prove a castaway ? 
Bastards may escape the rod, 
Sunk in earthly, vain delight, 
But the true-born child of God 
Must not, would not, if he might. 

William Cotcper, b. 1731, d. 1800. 



IV. 

ONE sweetly solemn thought, 
Comes to me o 'er and o 'er ; 
I'm nearer home to-day 
Than I 've ever been before ; 

Nearer my Father's house 
Where the many mansions be ; 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. \) 

Nearer the great white throne, 
Nearer the jasper sea ; 

Nearer the bound of life, 
Where we lay our burdens down — 
Nearer leaving the cross, 
Nearer gaining the crown. 

But lying dimly between, 
"Winding down through the night, 
Lies the dark and uncertain stream 
That leads us at length to the light. 

Closer and closer my steps 
Come to the dark abysm, 
Closer Death to my lips 
Presses the awful chrism ; 

Father perfect my trust ! 
Strengthen my feeble faith ! 
Let me feel as I would when 1 stand 
On the shores of the river of death — 

Feel as I would were my feet 
Even now slipping over the brink; 
For it may be I 'm nearer home, 
Nearer now, than I think. 

Phoebe Gary, b. 1825, d. 1871 
1* 



10 FA VORITE H YMNS IN 



V. 

NOT all the blood of beasts, 
On Jewish altars slain, 
Could give the guilty conscience peace, 
Or wash away the stain. 

But Christ, the heavenly Lamb, 

Takes all our sins away ; 
A sacrifice of nobler name 

And richer blood than they. 

My faith would lay her hand 

On that dear Head of Thine, 
While like a penitent I stand, 

And there confess my sin. 

My soul looks back to see 

The burdens Thou didct bear, 
When hanging on th' accursed tree, 

And hopes her guilt was there. 

Believing, we rejoice 

To see the curse remove, 
We bless the Lamb with cheerful voice, 

And sing His bleeding love. 

Isaac Watts, b 1G74, d. 17-1 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 11 



VI. 

OFOR a thousand tongues to sing 
My dear Redeemer's praise. 
The glories of my God and King, 
The triumphs of His grace. 

My gracious Master and my God, 

Assist me to proclaim, 
To spread, through all the earth abroad, 

The honors of Thy Name. 

Jesus, the Name that charms our fears, 

That bids our sorrows cease ; 
'Tis music in the sinner's ears, 

'Tis life, and health, and peace ! 

He speaks, and, listening to His voice, 

New life the dead receive ; 
The mournful, broken hearts rejoice, 

The humble poor believe. 

Hear Him, ye deaf; His praise, ye dumb, 

Your loosened tongues employ ; 
Ye blind, behold your Saviour come, 

And leap, ye lame, for joy ! 

Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1788. 



12 FA V0R1 TE H YMNS IN 



VII. 
"OTV sweet the Name of Jesus sounds 
In a believer's ear ! 
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, 
And drives away his fear! 

It makes the wounded spirit whole, 
And calms the troubled breast ; 

'Tis manna to the hungry soul, 
And to the weary rest. 

Dear Name ! the rock on which I build, 

My shield and hiding-place, 
My never-failing treasury, filled 

With boundless stores of grace, 

By Thee my prayers acceptance gain, 

Although with sin defiled ; 
Satan accuses me in vain, 

And I am owned a child. 

Jesus, my Shepherd, Husband, Friend, 
My Prophet, Priest, and King, 

My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End, 
Accept the praise I bring. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 13 

Weak is the effort of my heart, 

And cold my warmest thought 
But when I see Thee as Thou art, 

I '11 praise Thee as I ought. 

Till then, I would Thy love proclaim 

AVith every fleeting breath ; 
And may the music of Thy Name 

Refresh my soul in death ! 

John Newton, b. 1725, d. 1807. 



VIII. 
TTTHEN I survey the wondrous cross 

\ V On which the Prince of glory died, 
My richest gain I count but loss, 

And pour contempt on all my pride. 

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast 

Save in the death of Christ, my God ; 

All the vain things that charm me most 
I sacrifice them to His blood. 

See from His head, His hands, His feet 
Sorrow and love flow mingled down ! 

Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, 
Or thorns compose so rich a crown? 



14 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

His dying crimson like a robe, 

Spreads o'er his body on the tree : 

Then am I dead to all the globe, 
And all the globe is dead to me. 

Were the whole realm of nature mine, 
That were a present far too small ; 

Love so amazing, so divine, 

Demands my soul, my life, my all. 

Isaac Watts, 6. 1674, d. 1748. 



IX. 

JESUS I love Thy charming name, 
'Tis music to mine ear : 
Fain would I sound it out so loud, 
That earth and heaven should hear. 

Yes Thou art precious to my soul, 
My transport and my trust: 
Jewels to Thee are gaudy toys, 
And gold is sordid dust. 

All my capacious powers can wish 
In Thee doth richly meet: 
Nor to mine eyes is light so dear, 
Nor friendship half so sweet. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 15 

Thy grace still dwells upon my heart, 
And sheds its fragrance there ; 
The noblest balm of all its wounds, 
The cordial of its care. 

I'll speak the honors of Thy name, 
With my last laboring breath : 
Then speechless clasp Thee in my arms, 
The antidote of death. 

Philip Doddridge, b. 1702, d. 1751. 



LET me but hear my Saviour say 
Strength shall be equal to the day, 
Then I rejoice in deep distress, 
Leaning on all sufficient grace. 

I glory in infirmity, 

That Christ's own power may rest on me: 
When I am weak, then am I strong, 
Grace is my shield, and Christ my song. 

I can do all things, or can bear 
All sufferings, if my Lord be there ; 
Sweet pleasures mingle w T ith the pains, 
While His left hand my head sustains. 



16 FAVORITE HYMXS IN 

But if the Lord be once withdrawn, 
And we attempt the work alone, 
When new temptations spring and rise, 
We find how great our weakness is. 

So Sampson, when his hair was lost, 
Met the Philistines to his cost : 
Shook his vain limbs with sad surprise, 
Made feeble fight and lost his eyes. 

Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. 



XL 

PLUNGED in a gulf of dark despair 
We wretched sinners lay, 
Without one cheerful beam of hope, 
Or spark of glimmering day. 

With pitying eyes the Prince of Grace 

Leheld our helpless grief: 
He saw, and oh ! amazing love ! 

ITe i an to our relief. 

Down from the shining seats above 

With joyful haste He fled ; 
Entered the grave in mortal flesh, 

And dwelt among the dead. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 17 

He spoiled the powers of darkness thus, 

And broke our iron chains : 
Jesus has freed our captive souls 

From everlasting pains. 

In vain the baffled prince of hell 

II is cursed projects tries : 
We that were doomed his endless slaves, 

Are raised above the skies. 

Oh ! for this love, let rocks and hills 

Their lasting silence break, 
And all harmonious human tongues 

The Saviour's praises speak ! 

Yes we will praise thee, dearest Lord, 

Our souls are all on rlame : 
Hosanna round the spacious earth 

To thine adored name. 

Angels, assist our mighty joys ; 

Strike all your harps of gold ! 
But, when you raise your highest notes, 

His love can ne'er be told. 

Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1708. 



1 8 FA YURI TE HYMNS IN 



XII. 

CHRIST the Lord is risen to-day, 
Sons of men and angels say : 
Raise your joys and triumphs high. 
Sing, ye heavens, and eanh reply. 

Love's redeeming work is done, 
Fought the fight, the batile won : 
Lo ! our Sun's eclipse is o'er; 
Lo ! He sets in blood no more. 

Vain the stone, the watch, the seal ; 
Christ hath burst the gates of hell ! 
Death in vain forbids His rise; 
Christ hath opened Paradise ! 

Lives again our glorious King : 
Where, Death is now thy sting ? 
Once He died, our souls to save ; 
A V here thy victory, Grave ? 

Soar we now where Christ has led, 
Following our exalted Head ; 
Made like Him, like Him we rise i 
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies, 

What though once we perished all, 
Partners in our parents' fall ? 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM 19 

Second life we all receive, 
In our Heavenly Adam live. 

Risen with Him, we upward move; 
Still we seek the things above ; 
Still pursue, and kiss the Son 
Seated on His Father's Throne. 

Scarce on earth a thought bestow, 
Dead to all we leave below ; 
Heaven our aim, and loved abode, 
Hid our life with Christ in God : 

Hid, till Christ our Life appear 
Glorious in His members here ; 
Joined to Him, we then shall shine, 
All immortal, all divine. 

Hail the Lord of Earth and Heaven ! 
Praise to Thee by both be given ! 
Thee we greet triumphant now ! 
Hail, the Resurrection Thou! 

King of glory, Soul of bliss ! 
Everlasting life is this, 
Thee to know, Thy power to prove, 
Thus to sing, and thus to love ! 

Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1788. 



20 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

XIII. 

JOIN all the glorious names 
Of wisdom, love, and power, 
That ever mortals knew, 
That angels ever bore ; 
All are too mean to speak His worth. 
Too mean to set my Saviour forth. 

But oh ! what gentle term^ 

What condescending ways, 

Doth our Redeemer use 

To teach His heavenly grace! 
Mine eyes with joy and wonder see 
What forms of love He bears for me. 

Arrayed in mortal flesh 

He like an Angel stands, 

And holds the promises 

And pardons in His hands; 
Commissioned from His Father's throne 
To make His grace to mortals known. 

Great Prophet of my God, 

My tongue would bless Thy Name; 

T»y Thee the joyful news 

Of our salvation came; 
The joyful news of sins forgiven, 
Of hell subdued, and peace with Heaven. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 21 

Be Thon my Counsellor, 
My Pattern, and my Guide; 

And through this desert land 

Still keep me near Thy side : 
Oh, let my feet ne'er run astray, 
£sor rove, nor seek the crooked way 

I love my Shepherd's voice ; 

His watchful eyes shall keep 

My wandering soul among 

The thousands of His sheep ; 
He feeds His flock, He calls their names, 
His bosom bears the tender lambs. 

To this dear Surety's hand 

Will I commit my cause ; 

He answers and fulfils 

His Father's broken laws : 
Behold my soul at freedom set ; 
My Surety paid the dreadful debt, 

Jesus, my great High-Priest, 

Offered His Blood and died; 

My guilty conscience seeks 

No sacrifice beside : 
His powerful Blood did once atone, 
And now it pleads before the Throne, 



22 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

My advocate appears 

For my defence on high ; 

The Father bows His ears 

And lays His thunder by: 
Not that all hell or sin can say 
Shall turn His heart, His love away. 

My dear Almighty Lord, 

My Conqueror and my King, 

Thy sceptre and Thy s<vord, 

Thy reigning grace, I sing : 
Thine is the power : behold I sit 
In willing bonds before Thy feet ! 

Now let my soul arise, 
And tread the Tempter down ; 
My Captain leads me forth 
To conquest and a crown ; 
• A feeble saint shall win the day, 

Though death and hell obstruct the way, 

Should all the hosts of death 

And powers of hell unknown 

Put their most dreadful forms 

Of rage and mischief on, 
I shall be safe ; for Christ displays 
Superior power, and guardian grace. 

Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 23 

XIV. 

HAIL to the Lord's Anointed, 
Great David's greater Son ! 
Hail, in the time appointed, 

His reign on earth begun ! 
He comes to break oppression, 

To let the captive free, 
To take away transgression, 
And rule in equity. 

By such shall he be feared, 

While sun and moon endure, 
Beloved, obeyed, revered, 

For he shall judge the poor. 
Through changing generations 

With mercy, justice, truth, 
While stars maintain their stations, 

Or moons renew their youth. 

He comes with succor speedy, 

To those who suffer wrong ; 
To help the poor and needy, 

And bid the weak be strong: 
To give them songs for sighing, 

Their darkness turn to light, 
Whose souls, condemned and dying, 

Were precious in His sight. 



24 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

He shall come down like showers 

Upon the fruitful earth, 
And love, joy, hope, like flowers, 

Spring in His path to birth ; 
Before Him, on the mountains, 

Shall peace, the herald, go, 
And righteousness, in fountains, 

From hill to valley flow. 

Arabia's desert-ranger 

To Him shall bow the knee; 
The Ethiopian stranger 

His glory come to see : 
With offerings of devotion 

Ships from the Isles shall meet, 
To pour the wealth of ocean 

In tribute at I lis feet. 

Kings shall fall down before Him, 

And gold and incense bring; 
All nations shall adore Him, 

His praise all people sing; 
For He &hall have dominion 

O'er river, sea and shore ; 
Far as the eagle's pinion, 

Or dove's light wing, can soar. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM 25 

For Him shall prayer unceasing, 

And daily vows ascend, 
His kingdom still increasing, 

A kingdom without end : 
The mountain-dews shall nourish 

A seed, in weakness sown, 
Whose fruit shall spread and flourish, 

And shake like Lebanon. 

O'er every foe victorious 

He on His throne shall rest, 
From age to age more glorious, 

All blessing and all-blest : 
The tide of time shall never 

His covenant remove ; 
His Name shall stand forever, 

That Name to us is Love. 

James Montgomery, b. 1771, d. 1854. 



XV. 

JESUS shall reign where'er the sun 
Does his successive journeys run ; 
His kingdom stretch from shore to shore, 
Till moons shall w r ax and wane no more. 

Behold the islands with their kings, 
And Europe, her best tribute brings; 
2 



2b FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

From north to south, the princes meet, 
To pay their homage at his feet. 

There Persia, glorious to behold, 
There India shines, in eastern gold, 
And barbarous nations at his word 
Submit and bow, and own their Lord. 

For Him shall endless prayer be made, 
And praises throng to crown His Head ; 
His Name, like sweet perfume, shall rise 
With every morning sacrifice. 

People and realms of every tongue 
Dwell on His love with sweetest song, 
And infant voices shall proclaim 
Their early blessings on His Name. 

Blessings abound where'er He reigns ; 
The prisoner leaps to lose his chains ; 
The weary find eternal rest, 
And all the sons of want are blest. 

Where He displays His healing power, 
Death and the curse are known no more ; 
In Him the tribes of Adam boast 
More blessings than their father lost. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 27 

Let every creature rise, and bring 
Peculiar honors to our King ; 
Angels descend with songs again, 
And earth repeat the long Amen ! 

Isaac Watts, b. 16.74. d. 1748. 



XVI. 

FROM Greenland's icy mountains, 
From India's coral strand, 
Where Afric's sunny fountains 
Roll down their golden sand, 
From many an ancient river, 
From many a palmy plain, 
They call us to deliver 

Their land from error's chain. 

What though the spicy breezes 

Blow sofc o'er Java's isle ; 
Though every prospect pleases, 

And only man is vile ; 
In vain with lavish kindness 

The gifts of God are strown ; 
Thehea'hen in his blindness 

Bows down to wood and stone. 

Can we, whose souls are lighted 
With wisdom from on high, 



28 FA V0R1 TE HYMNS IN 

Can we to men benighted 

The lamp of life deny ? 
Salvation ! salvation ! 

The joyful sound proclaim, 
Till each remotest nation 

Has learn'd Messiah's Name. 

Waft, waft, ye winds, His story, 

And you, ye waters, roll. 
Till like a sea of glory 

It spreads from pole to pole ; 
Till o'er our ransomed nature 

The Lamb for sinners slain, 
Redeemer, King, Creator, 

In bliss returns to reign. 

Bishop Reginald Heber, b. 1783, d. 1826. 



xvn. 

COME, Holy Spirit, come, 
Let Thy bright beams arise, 
Dispel the darkness from our minds, 
And open all our eyes. 

Cheer our desponding hearts, 
Thou heavenly Paraclete ; 
Give us to lie, with humble hope, 
At our Redeemer's feet. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 29 

Revive our drooping faith, 
Our doubts and fears remove, 
And kindle in our breasts the flame 
Of never-dying love. 

Convince us of our sin, 
Then lead to Jesus' blood, 
And to our wondering view reveal 
The secret love of God. 

Show us that loving Man 
That rules the courts of bliss, 
The Lord of hosts, the Mighty God, 
The Eternal Prince of Peace. 

'T is Thine to cleanse the heart, 
To sanctify the soul, 
To pour fresh life in every part, 
And new- create the whole. 

Dwell therefore in our hearts, 
Our minds from bondage free ; 
Then we shall know, and praise, and love 
The Father, Son, and Thee ! 

Joseph Bart, b. 1712, d. 1768. 



30 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

XVIII. 

GLORIOUS things of thee are spoken, 
Zion, city of our God ; 
He, whose word cannot be broken, 
Formed thee for His own abode : 
On the Rock of Ages founded, 

What can shake thy sure repose ? 
With salvation's walls surrounded, 
Thou mayst smile at all thy foes. 

See, the streams of living waters, 

Springing from eternal love, 
Well supply thy sons and daughters, 

And all fear of want remove : 
Who can faint, while such a river 

Ever flows thy thirst to assuage ; 
Grace, which, like the Lord the giver, 

Never fails from age to age ? 

Round each habitation hovering, 

See the cloud and fire appear, 
For a glory and a covering ; 

Showing that the Lord is near. 
Thus deriving from their banner 

Light by night, and shade by day, 
Safe they feed upon the manna, 

Which He gives them when they pray. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 31 

Blest inhabitants of Zion, 

Washed in the Redeemer's blood, 
Jesus, whom their souls rely on, 

Makes them kings and priests to God. 
'Tis His love His people raises 

Over self to reign as kings, 
And as priests, His solemn praises 

Each for a thank-offering brings. 

Saviour, if of Zion's city 

I, through grace, a member am, 
Let the world deride or pity, 

I will glory in Thy Name : 
Fading is the worldling's pleasure, 

All his boasted pomp and show ; 
Solid joys and lasting treasure 

None but Zion's children know. 

John Newton, b. 1725, d. 1807. 



XIX. 

TE servants of the Lord, 
Each in his office wait, 
Observant of His heavenly word, 
And watchful at His gate. 

Let all your lamps be bright, 
And trim the golden flame ; 



3 2 FA VORITE H YMNS IN 

Gird up your loins, as in His sight, 
For awful is His name. 

Watch ; 't is your Lord's command ; 
And, while we speak, He's near; 
Mark the first signal of His hand, 
And ready all appear. 

O happy servant lie. 
In such a posture found ! 
He shall his Lord with rapture see, 
And be with honor crowned. 

Christ shall the banquet spread 
With His own Royal hand ; 
And raise that favorite servant's head 
Amid the angelic band. 

Philip Doddridge, b. 1702, d. 1751. 



XX. 

COME, we that love the Lord, 
And let our joys be known ; 
Join in a song with sweet accord, 
And thus surround the throne. 

The sorrows of the mind 
Be banished from the place : 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 

Religion never was designed 
To make our pleasures less. 

Let those refuse to sing 
That never knew our God ; 
But favorites of the Heavenly King 
May speak their joys abroad. 

The God that rules on high, 
And thunders when he please, 
That rides upon the stormy sky, 
And manages the seas, 

This awful God is ours, 
Our Father and our love, 
He shall send down His heavenly powers 
To carry us above. 

There we shall see His face, 
And never, never sin : 
There, from the rivers of His grace 
Drink endless pleasures in. 

Yes, and before we rise 
To that immortal state, 
The thoughts of such amazing bliss 
Should constant joys create. 
2* 



34: FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

The men of grace have found 
Glory begun below ; 
Celestial fruits on earthly ground 
From faith and hope may grow. 

The hill of ZIon yields 
A thousand sacred sweets, 
Before we reach the heavenly fields, 
Or walk the golden streets. 

Then let our songs abound, 
And every tear be dry : 
We 're marching through Emmanuel's ground 
To fairer worlds on high. 

Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. 



XXI. 

JESUS, where'er Thy people meet, 
There they behold Thy mercy-seat ; 
Where'er they seek Thee, Thou art found, 
And every place is hallowed ground. 

For Thou, within no walls confined, 
Inhabitest the humble mind ; 
Such ever bring Thee where they come, 
And going take Thee to their home. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 35 

Dear Shepherd of Thy chosen few, 
Thy former mercies here renew ; 
Here to our waiting hearts proclaim 
The sweetness of Thy saving Name. 

Here may we prove the power of prayer 
To strengthen faith, and sweeten care, 
To teach our faint desires to rise, 
And bring all Heaven before our eyes. 

Behold, at Thy commanding word, 
We stretch the curtain and the cord; 
Come Thou, and fill this wider space, 
And bless us with a large increase. 

Lord, we are few, but Thou art near ; 
Nor short Thine arm, nor deaf Thine ear; 
O rend the heavens, come quickly down, 
And make a thousand hearts Thine own ! 

William Cowper, b. 1731, d. 1800. 



XXII. 

MY soul, repeat His praise 
Whose mercies are so great, 
Whose anger is so slow to rise, 
So ready to abate. 



36 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

God will not always chide : 
And when His strokes are felt, 
His strokes are fewer than our crimes, 
And lighter than our guilt. 

High as the heavens are raised 
Above the ground we tread, 
So far the riches of His grace 
Our highest thoughts exceed. 

His pow r er subdues our sins ; 
And His forgiving love, 
Far as the east is from the west, 
Doth all our guilt remove. 

The pity of the Lord 
To those that fear His Name, 
Is such as tender parents feel ; 
He knows our feeble frame. 

He knows we are but dust, 
Scattered with every breath ; 
His anger, like a rising wind, 
Can send us swift to death. 

Our days are as the grass, 
Or like the morning flower ; 
If one sharp blast sweep o'er the field, 
It withers in an hour. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 37 

But Thy compassions, Lord, 
To endless years endure, 
And children's children ever find 
Thy words of promise sure. 

Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. 



XXIII. 

THERE is a fountain filled with blood 
Drawn from Emmanuel's veins ; 
And sinners plunged beneath that flood 
Lose all their guilty stains. 

The dying thief rejoiced to see 

That fountain in his day ; 
And there have I, as vile as he, 

Washed all my sins away. 

Dear dying Lamb ! Thy precious Blood 

Shall never lose its power, 
Till all the ransomed Church of God 

Be saved, to sin no more. 

E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream 

Thy flowing wounds supply, 
Redeeming love har> been my theme, 

And shaU be till I die. 



3 8 FA VOR ITE H YMJN S IN 

Then in a nobler, sweeter song 

I '11 sing Th j power to save, 
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue 

Lies silent in the grave 

Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared, 

Unworthy though I be, 
For me a blood-bought free reward, 

A golden harp for me : 

'T is strung, and tuned for endless years, 

And formed by power divine. 
To sound in God the Father's ears 

No other Name but Thine. 

William Coivpcr, b. 1731, d. 1800. 



XXIV. 
""DOCK of Ages, cleft for me, 
-*- ^ Let me hide myself in Thee ! 
Let the water and the blood. 
From Thy riven side which flowed, 
Be of sin the double cure. 
Cleanse me from its guilt and power. 

Not the labors of my hands 
Can fulfil Thy law's demands ; 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM 39 

Could my zeal no respite know, 
Could my tears forever flow, 
All for sin could not atone 
Thou must save, and Thou alone. 

Nothing in my hand I bring ; 
Simply to Thy Cross I cling ; 
Naked, come to Thee for dress ; 
Helpless, look to Thee for grace ; 
Foul, I to the Fountain fly ; 
Wash me, Saviour, or I die ! 

While I draw this fleeting breath, 
When my eyestrings break in death, 
When I soar through tracts unknown. 
See Thee on Thy judgment-throne ; 
Rock of Ages, clefc for me. 
Let me hide myself in Thee ! 

Augustus Montague Toplady, b< 1740, d. 1778. 



XXV. 

TTTHY do we mourn departing friends, 
V V Or shake at death's alarms ? 

'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends 
To call them to His arms. 



40 FA VORITE U YMNS IN 

Are we not tending upward too, 

As fast as time can move ? 
Nor would we wish the hours more slow 

To keep us from our love. 

Why should we tremble to convey 

Their bodies to the tomb ? 
There the dear flesh of Jesus lay, 

And left a long perfume. 

The graves of all His saints He blessed, 

And softened every bed : 
Where should the dying members rest, 

But with the dying head? 

Thence He arose, ascending high, 

And showed our feet the way; 
Up to the Lord our flesh shall fly 

At the great rising day. 

Then let the last loud trumpet sound, 

And bid our kindred rise : 
Awake, ye nations under ground ! 

Ye saints, ascend the skies ! 

Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 4 i 



XXYI. 

RISE, my soul, and stretch thy wings, 
Thy better portion trace ; 
Rise from transitory things 

Towards Heaven, thy native place. 
Sun and moon and stars decay ; 
Time shall soon this earth remove ; 
Rise, my soul, and haste away 
To seats prepare! above. 

Rivers to the ocean run, 

Nor stay in all their course ; 
Fire ascending seeks the sun ; 

Both speed them to their source : 
So my soul, derived from Gocl, 
Pants to view His glorious face, 
Forward tends to His abode, 

To rest in His embrace. 

Fly me Riches, fly me Cares, 

Whilst I that coast explore ; 
Flattering world, with all thy snares 

Solicit me no more ! 
Pilgrims fix not here their home : 
Strangers tarry but a night; 
When the last dear morn is come, 

They'll rise to joyful light. 



42 FA VOUITE HYMNS IN 

Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn 5 

Press onward to the prize ; 
Soon our Saviour will return 

Triumphant in the skies. 
Yet a season, and you know 
Happy entrance will be given, 
All our sorrows left below, 

And earth exchanged for heaven. 

Robert Seagrave, b. 1693, d. unknown. 



XXVII. 

OUR God, our help in ages past, 
Our hope for years to come, 
Our shelter from the stormy blast, 
And our eternal home : 

Under the shadow of Thy Throne 
Thy saints have dwelt secure ; 

Sufficient is Thine arm alone, 
And our defence is sure. 

Before the hills in order stood, 
Or earth received her frame, 

From everlasting Thou art God, 
To endless years the same. 

Thy word commands our flesh to dust, 
a Keturn ye sons of men :" 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 43 

All nations rose from earth at first, 
And turn to earth again. 

A thousand ages in Thy sight 

Are like an evening gone ; 
Short as the watch that ends the night 

Before the rising sun. 

The busy tribes of flesh and blood, 

With all their lives and cares, 
Are carried downwards by Thy flood, 

And lost in following years. 

Time, like an ever-rolling stream, 

Bears all its sons away ; 
They fly forgotten, as a dream 

Dies at the opening day. 

Like flowery fields the nations stand, 

Pleased with the morning light : 
The flowers, beneath the mower's hand, 

Lie withering ere 'tis nisdit. 

Our God, our help in ages past ; 

Our hope for years to come ; 
Be Thou our guard while troubles last, 

And our eternal home ! 

Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. 



44 FA VORITE H YMNS IN 



XXVIII 
"T3RA.YER is the soul's sincere desire, 
-*- Uttered, or unexpressed ; 
The motion of a hidden fire 
That trembles in the breast. 

Prayer is the burthen of a sigh, 

The falling of a tear, 
The upward glancing of the eye, 

When none but God is near. 

Prayer is the simplest form of speech 

That infant lips can try ; 
Prayer the sublimest strains that reach 

The Majesty on high. 

Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice 

Re turning from his ways, 
"While angels in their songs rejoice, 

And cry, Behold, he prays ! 

Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, 

The Christian's native air ; 
His watchword at the gates of death; 

He enters Heaven with prayer. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 45 

The saints, in prayer, appear as one 

In word, and deed, and mind ; 
While with the Father and the Son 

Sweet fellowship they find. 

Nor prayer is made by man alone : 

The Holy Spirit pleads ; 
And Jesus, on the eternal Throne, 

For mourners intercedes. 

Thou, by whom we come to God ! 

The Life, the Truth, the Way ! 
The path of prayer Thyself hast trod : 

Lord ! teach us how to pray ! 

James Montgomery, b. 1771, d. 1854. 



XXIX. 

TTTHEN all Thy mercies, O my God, 

V V My rising soul surveys, 
Transported with the view, I'm lost 

In wonder, love, and praise. 

O how shall words with equal warmth 

The gratitude declare, 
That glows within my ravished heart ! 

But Thou canst read it there. 



46 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

Thy Providence my life sustained, 
And all my wants redrest, 

When in the silent womb I lay, 
And hung upon the breast. 

To all my weak complaints and cries 

Thy mercy lent an ear, 
Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt 

To form themselves in prayer. 

Unnumbered comforts to my soul 

Thy tender care bestowed, 
Before my infant heart conceived 

From whence these comforts flowed. 

When in the slippery paths of youth 

With heedless steps I ran, 
Thine arm, unseen, conveyed me safe, 

And led me up to man. 

Through hidden clangers, toils, and death, 

It gently cleared my way ; 
And through the pleasing snares of vice, 

More to be feared than they. 

When worn with sickness, oft hast Thou 
With health renewed my face ; 

And, when in sins and sorrows sunk, 
Revived my soul with grace. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 47 



Thy bounteous hand with worldly bliss 

Has made my cup run o'er ; 
And in a kind and faithful friend 

Has doubled all my store. 

Ten thousand thousand precious gifts 

My daily thanks employ ; 
Nor is the least a cheerful heart 

That tastes those gifts with joy. 

Through every period of my life 

Thy goodness I'll pursue ; 
And after death, in distant worlds, 

The glorious theme renew. 

When nature fails, and day and night 

Divide thy works no more, 
My ever-grateful heart, O Lord, 

Thy mercy shall adore. 

Through all eternity to Thee 

A joyful song I'll raise : 
But oh ! eternity's too short 

To utter all Thy praise ! 

Joseph Addison, b. 1672, d. 1719. 



48 FA VORITE HYMNS IN 



XXX. 

COME, my soul, Thy suit prepare ; 
Jesus loves to answer prayer : 
He Himself has bid thee pray, 
Therefore will not say thee nay. 



Thou art coming to a King, 
Large petitions with thee bring ; 
For His grace and power are such, 
None can ever ask too much. 



With my burden I begin ; 
Lord, remove this load of sin ; 
Let Thy blood, for sinners spilt, 
Set my conscience free fiom guilt. 

Lord, I come to Thee for rest ; 
Take possession of my breast ; 
There Thy blood-bought right maintain, 
And without a rival reign. 

As the imnge in the glass 
Answers the beholder's face, 
Thus unto my heart appear, 
Print Thine own resemblance there. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 49 

While I am a pilgrim here, 

Let Thy love my spirit cheer ; 

As my Guide, my Guard, my Friend, 

Lead me to my journey's end. 

Show me what I have to do ; 
Every hour my strength renew ; 
Let me live a life of faith ; 
Let me die Thy people's death. 

John Newton, b. 1725, d. 1807. 



XXXI* 

MY faith looks up to Thee, 
Thou Lamb of Cavalry, 
Saviour divine ! 
Now hear me while I pray ; 
Take all my guilt away ; 
O let me from this day 
Be wholly Thine ! 

May Thy rich grace impart 
Strength to my fainting heart, 

My zeal inspire ! 
As Thou hast died for me, 



*The only change which I have met with in this hymn, is the substitution 
of distress for distrust in the last stanza. 



50 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

O may my love to Thee 
Pure, warm, and changeless be, 
A living fire ! 

While life's dark maze I tread, 
And griefs around me spread, 

Be Thou my Guide ! 
Bid darkness turn to day, 
"Wipe sorrow's tears away, 
Nor let me ever stray 

From Thee aside. 

When ends life's transient dream, 
When death's cold sullen stream 

Shall o'er me roll ; 
Blest Saviour ! then in love 
Fear and distrust remove % 
O bear me safe above, 

A ransomed soul ! 



Bay Palmer, b. 1808. 



XXXII. 



NOW it belongs not to my care 
Whether I die or live ; 
To love and serve Thee is my share, 
And this Thy grace must give. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 51 

If death shall bruise this springing seed 

Before it comes to fruit, 
The will with Thee goes for the deed, 

Thy life was in the root. 

Would I long bear my heavy load, 

And keep my sorrows long ? 
Would I long sin against my God, 

And His dear mercy wrong ? 

How much is sinful flesh my foe, 

That doth my soul pervert 
To linger here in sin and woe, 

And steals from God my heart ! 

Christ leads me through no darker rooms 

Than He went through before ; 
He that unto God's Kingdom comes 

Must enter by this door. 

Come, Lord, when grace hath made me meet 

Thy blessed face to see ; 
For, if Thy work on earth be sweet. 

What will Thy glory be ? 

Then I shall end my sad complaints, 

And weary sinful days, 
And join with the triumphant saints 

That sing Jehovah's praise. 



52 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

My knowledge of that life is small ; 

The eye of faith is dim ; 
But it 's enough that Christ knows all, 

And I shall be with Him. 

Richard Baxter, b. 1615, d. 1691. 



XXXIII. 

OF OR an heart to praise my God, 
A heart from sin set free ! 
A heart that always feels Thy Blood, 
So freely spilt for me ! 

An heart resigned, submissive, meek, 
My dear Redeemer's throne ; 

Where only Christ is heard to speak, 
Where Jesus reigns alone. 

An humble, lowly, contrite heart, 

Believing, true, and clean : 
Which neither life nor death can part 

From Him that dwells within : 

An heart in every thought renewed, 

And full of love divine ; 
Perfect, and right, and pure, and good, 

A copy, Lord of Thine. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 53 

My heart, Thou know'st, can never rest 

Till Thou create my peace : 
Till of my Eden re-possessed, 

From every sin I cease. 

Fruit of Thy gracious lips, on me 

Bestow that fruit unknown : 
The hidden manna, and the tree 

Of life and the white stone. 

Thy nature, gracious Lord, impart ; 

Come quickly from above ; 
Write Thy new Name upon my heart, 

Thy new, best Name of Love. 

Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1788. 



XXXIY. 

WHEN 1 survey life's varied scene, 
Amid the darkest hours 
Sweet rays of comfort shine between, 
And thorns are mixed with flow T ers. 

Lord, teach me to adore Thy hand, 
From whence my comforts flow, 

And let me in this desert land 
A glimpse of Canaan know. 



54 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

Is health and ease my happy share ! 

O may I bless my God ; 
Thy kindness let my songs declare, 

And spread Thy praise abroad. 

While such delightful gifts as these 

Are kindly lent to me, 
Be all my hours of health and ease 

Devoted, Lord, to Thee. 

In griefs and pains Thy sacred word, 
(Dear solace of my soul !) 

Celestial comforts can afford, 
And all their power control. 

When present sufferings pain my heart, 

Or future terrors rise, 
And light and hope almost depart 

From these dejected eyes : 

Thy powerful word supports my hope, 
Sweet cordial of the mind! 

And bears my fainting spirit up, 
And bids me wait resigned. 

And Oh! whate'er of earthly bliss 
Thy sovereign hand denies, 

Accepted at Thy throne of grace 
Let this petition rise : 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM 5d 

Give me a calm, a thankful heart, 

From every murmur free ; 
The blessings of Thy grace impart, 
And let me live to Thee. 

Let the sweet hope that Thou art mine 

My path of life attend, 
Thy presence through my journey shine, 

And bless its happy end ! 

Anne Steele, b. 1717, d. 1778. 



XXXV. 

THY way, not mine, O Lord, 
However dark it be ! 
Lead me by Thine own hand, 
Choose out the path for me. 

Smooth let it be or rough, 
It will be still the best ; 

Winding or straight, it leads 
Right onw r ard to Thy rest. 

I dare not choose my lot ; 

I would not, if I might ; 
Choose Thou for me, my God ; 

So shall I walk aright. 



56 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

The kingdom that I seek 

Is Thine ; so let the way 
That leads to it be Thine ; 

Else I must surely stray. 

Take Thou my cup, and it 

With joy or sorrow fill, 
As best to Thee may seem ; 

Choose Thou my good and ill ; 

Choose Thou for me my friends, 

My sickness or my health ; 
Choose Thou my cares for me, 
My poverty or wealth. 

Not mine, not mine the choice, 

In things or great or small ; 
Be Thou my guide, my strength, 

My wisdom, and my all. 

Horatius Bonar, b. 1808. 



XXXYI. 

FATHER, I know that all my life 
Is portioned out for me, 
And the changes that are sure to come 

I do not fear to see ; 
But I ask Thee for a present mind, 
Intent on pleasing thee. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 57 

I ask Thee for a thoughtful love, 

Through constant watching wise, 
To meet the glad with joyful smiles 

And wipe the weeping eyes ; 
And a heart at leisure from itself, 

To soothe and sympathize. 

I would not have the restless will 

That hurries to and fro ; 
Seeking for some great thing to do, 

Or secret thing to know : 
I would be treated as a child, 

And guided where I go. 

"Wherever in the world I am, 

In whatsoe'er estate, 
I have a fellowship with hearts 

To keep and cultivate, 
And a work of lowly love to do, 

For the Lord on whom I wait. 

So I ask Thee for the daily strength 

To none that ask denied, 
And a mind to blend with outward life, 

While keeping at Thy side ; 

Content to fill a little space, 

If Thou be glorified. 
3* 



58 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

And if some things I do not ask 

In my cup of blessing be, 
I would have my spirit filled the more 

With grateful love to Thee ; 
More careful, not to serve Thee much, 

But to please Thee perfectly. 

There are briers besetting every path, 

That call for patient care ; 
There is a cross in every lot, 

And an earnest need for prayer ; 
But a lowly heart, that leans on Thee 

Is happy anywhere. 

In a service which Thy w r ill appoints 

There are no bonds for me ; 
For my inmost heart is taught the Truth 

That makes Thy children free ; 
And a life of self-renouncing love 

Is a life of liberty. 

Anna Lcetitia Waring, b. unknown* 



Q 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 59 

XXXVIT. 

UIET, Lord, my fro ward heart, 
Make me teachable and mild, 
Upright, simple, free from art, 

Make me as a weaned child, 
From distrust and envy free, 
Pleased with all that pleases Thee. 

What Thou shalt to-day provide, 

Let me as a child receive ; 
What to-morrow may betide 

Calmly to Thy wisdom leave; 
'Tis enough that Thou wilt care ; 
Why should I the burden bear ? 

As a little child relies 

On a care beyond his own, 
Knows he's neither strong nor wise, 

Fears to stir a step alone ; 
Let me thus with Thee abide, 
As my Father, Guard, and Guide. 

Thus, preserved from Satan's wiles, 
Safe from dangers, free from fears, 

May I live upon Thy smiles 
Till the promised hour appears, 

When the sons of God shall prove 
All their Father's boundless love ! 

John Newton, b. 1725, d. 1807. 



60 FA VORITE HYMNS IN 



xxxvni. 

JESUS, cast a look on me ; 
Give me sweet simplicity, 
Make me poor and keep me low, 
Seeking only Thee to know. 

Weaned from my lordly self, 
Weaned from the miser's pelf, 
Weaned from the scorner's ways, 
Weaned from the lust of praise. 

All that feeds my busy pride, 
Cast it evermore aside ; 
Bid my will to Thine submit ; - 
Lay me humbly at Thy feet. 

Make me like a little child, 
Of my strength and wisdom spoiled, 
Seeing only in Thy light, 
Walking only in Thy might, 

Leaning on Thy loving breast, 
Where a weary soul may rest ; 
Feeling well the peace of God 
Flowing from Thy gracious Blood ! 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM 61 

In this posture let me live. 
And hosannas daily give ; 
In this temper let me die, 
And hosannas ever cry ! 

John Berridge, b. 1716, d. 1793. 



XXXIX. 

THE Lord my Shepherd is, 
I shall be well supplied; 
Since He is mine, and I am His, 
What can I want beside ? 

He leads me to the place 
Where h avenly pasture grows, 
Where living waters gently pass, 
And full salvation flows. 

If e'er I go astray, 
He doth my soul reclaim, 
And guides me in His own right way 
For His most holy Name. 

While He affords His aid, 
I cannot yield to fear ; 
Though I should walk through death's dark shade, 
My Shepherd's with me there. 



62 FA VOR1 TE H YMNS IN 

In spite of all my foes 
Thou dost my table spread ; 
My cup with blessings overflows, 
And joy exalts my head. 

The bounties of Thy love 
Shall crown my following days ; 
Nor from Thy house will I remove, 
Nor cease to speak Thy praise. 

Isaac Watts,b, 1614, d. 1748. 



XL. 

JESU, lover of my soul, 
Let me to Thy bosom fly, 
"While the nearer waters roll, 

While the tempest still is high! 
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, 

Till the storm of life is past, 
Safe into the haven guide ; 
receive my soul at last ! 

Other refuge have I none ; 

Hangs my helpless soul on Thee ; 
Leave, ah ! leave me not alone, 

Still support and comfort me ! 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 63 

All my trust on Thee is stayed, 

All my help from Thee I bring: 
Cover my defence 1 ess head 

With the shadow of Thy wing! 

Wilt Thou not regard my call ? 

Wilt Thou not accept my prayer ? 
Lo ! I sink, I faint, I fall ! 

Lo ! on Thee I cast my care ! 
Reach me out Thy gracious hand ! 

While I of Thy strength receive, 
Hoping against hope I stand, 

Dying, and behold I live ! 

Thou, O Christ, art all I want ; 

More than all in Thee I find : 
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, 

Heal the sick, and lead the blind ! 
Just and holy is Thy Name ; 

I am all unrighteousness ; 
False and full of sin I am, 

Thou art full of truth and grace. 

Plenteous grace with Thee is found, 

Grace to cover all my sin ; 
Let the healing streams abound ; 

Make and keep me pure within ! 



64 FAVORITE HY1MNS IN 

Thou of Life the Fountain art, 

Freely let me take of Thee ; 
Spring Thou up within my heart ! 

Rise to all eternity ! 

Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1788, 



XLI. 

CHRIST, whose glory fills the skies, 
Christ, the true, the only Light, 
Sun of Righteousness, arise, 

Triumph o'er the shades of night ! 
Day-spring from on high, be near ! 
Day-star, in my heart appear ! 

Dark and cheerless is the morn 

Unaccompanied by Thee ; 
Joyless is the day's return, 

Till Thy mercy's beams I see ; 
Till they inward light impart, 
Glad my eyes, and warm my heart. 

Visit then this soul of mine, 

Pierce the gloom of sin and grief! 

Fill me, Radiancy Divine, 
Scatter all my unbelief! 

More and more Thyself display, 

Shining to the perfect day ! 

Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1888. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 65 

XLIL* 

ALL praise to Thee, my God, this night, 
For all the blessings of the light ; 
Keep me, O keep me, King of kings, 
Beneath Thine own Almighty wings ! 

Forgive me, Lord, for Thy dear Son, 
The ill that I this day have done ; 
That with the world, myself, and Thee, 
I, ere I sleep, at peace may be. 

Teach me to live, that I may dread 
The grave as little as my bed ! 
To die, that this vile body may 
Rise glorious at the awful day ! 

O may my soul on Thee repose ; 
And may sweet sleep mine eyelids close ; 
Sleep, that may me more vigorous make 
To serve my God when I awake ! 

When in the night I sleepless lie, 
My soul with heavenly thoughts supply ! 
Let no ill dreams disturb my rest, 
No powers of darkness me molest! 



* It is impossible for me to determine whether Ken originally began this 
hymn with the words All praise, or with the word Glory. The best authori- 
ties are divided. 



66 FA VORITE HYMNS IN 

Dull sleep, of sense me to deprive ! 
I am but half my time alive : 
Thy faithful lovers, Lord, are grieved 
To lie so long of Thee bereaved. 

But though sleep o'er my frailty reigns, 
Let it not hold me long in chains ! 
And now and then let loose my heart, 
Till it an hallelujah dart ! 

The faster sleep the senses binds, 
The more unfettered are our minds ; 
O may my soul, from matter free, 
Thy loveliness unclouded see ! 

O when shall I, in endless day, 
Forever chase dark sleep away, 
And hymns with the supernal choir 
Incessant sing, and never tire? 

O may my Guardian, while I sleep, 
Close to my bed his vigils keep ; 
His love angelical instil ; 
Stop all the avenues of ill ; 

May he celestial joy rehearse, 

And thought to thought with me converse ; 

Or in my stead, all the night long, 

Sing to my God a grateful song ! 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM 67 

Praise Gocf, from whom all blessings flow, 
Praise Him, all creatures here below ! 
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host ! 
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ! 

Bishop Thames Ken, b. 1637, d. 1711. 



XLIII. 

SUN of my soul, Thou Saviour clear, 
It is not night if Thou be near ; 
Oh ! may no earth-born cloud arise 
To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes ! 

"When round Thy wondrous works below 
My searching rapturous glance I throw, i 
Tracing out wisdom, power, and love, 
In earth or sky, in stream or grove ; 

Or, by the light Thy words disclose, 
Watch time's full river as it flows, 
Scanning Thy gracious Providence, 
Where not too deep for mortal sense ; 

When with dear friends sweet talk I hold, 
And all the flowers of life unfold ; 
Let not my heart within me burn, 
Except in all I Thee discern ! 



68 FA VORITE HYMNS IN 

When the soft dews of kindly sleep 
My wearied eyelids gently steep, 
Be my last thought, how sweet to rest 
Forever on my Saviour's breast ! 

Abide with me from morn till eve, 
For without Thee I cannot live ! 
Abide with me when night is nigh, 
For without Thee I dare not die ! 

Thou Framer of the light and dark, 
Steer through the tempest Thine own ark ! 
Amid the howling, wintry sea 
"We are in port if we have Thee. 

The rulers of this Christian land, 
'Twixt Thee and us ordained to stand, 
Guide Thou their course, O Lord, aright! 

Let all do all as in Thy sight ! 

Oh ! by Thine own sad burthen, borne 
So meekly up the hill of scorn, 
Teach Thou Thy priests their daily cross 
To bear as Thine, nor count it loss ! 

If some poor wandering child of Thine 
Have spurned, to-day, the voice divine ; 
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin ; 
Let him no more lie down in sin ! 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. G9 

Watch by the sick, enrich the poor 
With blessings from Thy boundless store ! 
Be every mourner's sleep to night 
Like infant's slumbers, pure and light ! 

Come ne?4" and bless us when we wake, 
Ere through the world our way we take : 
'Till, in the ocean of Thy love, 
We lose ourselves in Heaven above ! 

John Keble, b. 1792, d. 1866. 



XLIV. 

SWEET is the work, my God, my King, 
To praise Thy Name, give thanks and sing, 
To show Thy love by morning light, 
And talk of all Thy truth at night. 

Sweet is the day of sacred rest ; 
No mortal cares shall seize my breast : 
O may my heart in tune be found, 
Like David's harp of solemn sound ! 

My heart shall triumph in my Lord, 
And bless His works, and bless His word : 
Thy works of grace, how bright they shine ! 
How deep Thy counsels, how divine ! 



70 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

Fools never raise their thoughts so high ; 
Like brutes they live, like brutes they die ; 
Like grass they flourish, till Thy breath 
Blast them in everlasting death. 

But I shall share a glorious part, 
When grace hath well refined my heart, 
And fresh supplies of joy are shed, 
Like holy oil to cheer my head. 

Sin, (my worst enemy before.) 
Shall vex my eyes and ears no more ; 
My inward foes shall all be slain, 
£sor Satan break my peace again. 

Then shall I see and hear and know 
All I desired and wished below, 
And every power find sweet employ 
In that eternal world of joy ! 

Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. 



XLV. 

COME, O thou Traveller unknown, 
Whom still I hold, but cannot see, 
My company before is gone, 

And I am left alone with Thee ! 
With Thee all night I mean to stay, 
And wrestle till the break of day, 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 71 

I need not tell Thee who I am, 

My misery or sin declare ; 
Thyself hast called me by my name ; 

Look on Thy hands, and read it there ! 
But Who, I ask Thee, Who art Thou ? 
Tell me Thy Name, and tell me now. 

In vain Thou strugglest to get free, 

I never will unloose my hold ; 
Art Thou the Man that died for me ? 
The secret of Thy love unfold. 
Wrestling, I will not let Thee go, 
Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know 

Wilt Thou not yet to me reveal 

Thy new, unutterable Name! 
Tell me, I still beseech Thee, tell ; 

To know it now, resolved I am : 
Wrestling, I will not let Thee go, 
Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know. 

'T is all in vain to hold Thy tongue, 

Or touch the hollow of my thigh ; 
Though every sinew be unstrung, 

Out of my arms Thou shalt not fly ; 
Wrestling, I will not let Thee go, 
Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know. 



72 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

What though my shrinking flesh complain, 
And murmur to contend so long ? 

I rise superior to my pain ; 

When I am weak, then I am strong: 

And when my all of strength shall fail, 

I shall with the God -Man prevail. 

My strength is gone ; my nature dies ; 

I sink beneath Thy weighty hand, 
Faint to revive, and fall to rise ; 

I fall, and yet by faith I stand : 
I stand, and will not let Thee go, 
Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know. 

Yield to me now, for I am weak, 
But confident in self-despair ; 

Speak to my heart, in blessings speak, 
Be conquered by my instant prayer ! 

Speak, or Thou never hence shalt move, 

And tell me, if Thy Name is Love ? 

'T is Love ! 't is Love ! Thou diedst for me ! 

I hear Thy whisper in my heart ! 
The morning breaks, the shadows flee ; 

Pure universal Love Thou art ! 
To me, to all, Thy bowels move ! 
Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love ! 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 73 

My prayer hath power with God ; the grace 

Unspeakable I now receive ; 
Through faith I see Thee face to face, 

I see Thee face to face, and live : 
In vain I have not wept and strove ; 
Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love. 

I know Thee, Saviour, who Thou art ; 

Jesus, the feeble sinner's Friend I 
Nor wilt Thou with the night depart, 

But stay, and love me to the end! 
Thy mercies never shall remove, 
Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love! 

The Sun of Righteousness on me 

Hath rose, with healing in His wings ; 

Withered my nature's strength, from Thee 
My soul its life and succor brings ; 

My help is all laid up above ; 

Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love. 

Contented now upon my thigh 

I halt, till life's short journey end ; 

All helplessness, all weakness, I 

On Thee alone for strength depend ; 

Nor have I power from Thee to move ; 

Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love. 
4 



FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

Lame as I am, I take the prey, 

Hell, earth, and sin, with ease o'ercome ; 

I leap for joy, pursue my way, 

And as a bounding hart fly home ! 

Through ail eternity to prove, 

Thy Nature, arid Thy Name, is Love ! 

Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1788. 



XLVL 

JESUS, I my cross have taken, 
All to leave, and follow Thee ; 
Destitute, despised, forsaken, 

Thou, from hence, my all shalt be : 
Perish every fond ambition, 

All I've sought, or hoped, or known ; 
Yet how rich is my condition ! 

God and Heaven are still my own ! 

Let the world despise and leave me, 

They have left my Saviour too ; 
Human hearts and looks deceive me; 

Thou art not, like them, untrue : 
And, while Thou shalt smile upon me, 

God of wisdom, love, and might, 
Foes may hate, and friends may shun me ; 

Show Thy face, and all is bright ! 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 75 

Go, then, earthly fame and treasure ! 

Come, disaster, scorn, and pain ! 
In Thy service, pain is pleasure, 

With Thy favor, loss is gain ! 
I have called Thee, Abba, Father ! 

I have stayed my heart on Thee ! 
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather, 

All must work for good to me. 

Man may trouble and distress me, 

'Twill but drive me to Thy breast ; 
Life with trials hard may press me, 

Heaven will bring me sweeter rest ! 
O, 'tis not in grief to harm me, 

While Thy love is left to me ! 
O, 't were not in joy to charm me, 

Were that joy unmixed with Thee ! 

Take, my soul, thy full salvation ; 

Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care ; 
Joy to find, in every station, 

Something still to do or bear : 
Think what l>pirit dwells within thee ! 

What a Father's smile is thine ! 
What a Saviour died to win thee ! 

Child of Heaven, shouldst thou repine ? 



76 FA VORITE H YMNS IN 

Haste then on from grace to glory, 

Armed by faith, and winged by prayer ; 
Heaven's eternal clay's before thee, 

God's own hand shall guide thee there! 
Soon shall close thy earthly mission, 

Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days; 
Hope soon change to glad fruition, 

Faith to sight, and prayer to praise ! 

Henry Francis Lyte, b. 1793, d. 1847. 



XL VII. 

ABIDE with me ! fast falls the even-tide ; 
The darkness deepens ; Lord, with me abide \ 
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, 
Help of the helpless, O abide with me! 

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; 
Earth's joys grow dim ; its glories pass away ; 
Change and decay in all around I see ; 
Thou, who changes t not, abide with me ! 

Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word ; 
But, as Thou dwell'st with Thy disciples, Lord, 
Familiar, condescending, patient, free, 
Come, not to sojourn, but abide, with me ! 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM 77 

Come not in terrors, as the King of kings ; 
But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings ; 
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea ; 
Come, Friend of sinners, and thus 'bide with me ! 

Thou on my head in early youth didst smile ; 
And, though rebellious and perverse meanwhile, 
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee. 
On to the close, O Lord, abide with me ! 

I need Thy Presence every passing hour : 
What but Thy grace can foil the Tempter's power ? 
"Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be ? 
Through cloud and sunshine, O abide with me ! 

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless : 
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness : 
Where is death's sting ? where, Grave, thy victory ? 
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me ! 

Hold then Thy cross before my closing eyes ! 
Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies ! 
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows 

flee; 
In life and death, O Lord, abide with me ! 

Henry Francis Lyte,b. 1793, d. 1847. 



78 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 



XL Yin. 

COMMIT thou all thy griefs 
And ways into His hands, 
To His sure Truth and tender care, 
Who earth and Heaven commands. 

Who points the clouds their course, 
Whom winds and seas obey, 
He shall direct thy wandering feet, 
He shall prepare thy way. 

Thou on the Lord rely ; 
So safe shalt thou go on ; 
Fix on His work thy steadfast eye, 
So shall thy work be done. 

No profit canst thou gain 
By self-consuming care ; 
To Him commend thy cause ; His ear 
Attends the softest prayer. 

Thy everlasting Truth, 
Father ! Thy ceaseless love, 
Sees all Thy children's wants, and knows 
What best for each will prove. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 79 

And whatsoe'er Thou will'st 
Thou dost, King of kings ; 
What Thy unerring wisdom chose, 
Thy Power to being brings. 

Thou everywhere hast sway, 
And all things serve Thy might ; 
Thy every act pure blessing is, 
Thy path unsullied light. 

When Thou arisest, Lord, 
Who shall Thy work withstand ? 
When all Thy children want Thou giv'st, 
Who, who shall stay Thy hand ? 

Give to the winds thy fears ; 
Hope, and be undismayed ; 
God hears thy sighs, and counts thy tears, 
God shall lift up thy head. 

Through waves and clouds and storms, 
He gently clears thy way ; 
Wait thou His time ; so shall this night 
Soon end in joyous day. 

Still heavy is thy heart ? 
Still sink thy spirits down ? 
Cast off the weight, let fear depart, 
And every care be gone. 



80 FA VORITE HYMNS IN 

What though thou rulest not? 
Yet Heaven and earth and hell 
Proclaim, God sitteth on the Throne, 
And ruleth all things well ! 

Leave to His sovereign sway 
To choose and to command; 
So shalt thou wondering own, His way 
How wise, how strong His hand ! 

Far, far above thy thought 
His counsel shall appear, 
When fully He the work hath wrought 
That caused thy needless fear. 

Thou seest our weakness, Lord ! 
Our hearts are known to Thee : 
Oh ! lift Thou up the sinking hand, 
Confirm the feeble knee ! 

Let us, in life, in death, 
Thy steadfast Truth declare, 
And publish, with our latest breath, 
Thy love and guardian care ! 

John Wesley, b. 1703, d. 1791. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 81 



XLIX. 

TOUR harps, ye trembling saints, 
Down from the willows take ; 
Loud to the praise of Love divine, 
Bid every string awake. 

Though in a foreign land, 
We are not far from home ; 
And nearer to our house above 
We every moment come. 

His Grace will to the end 
Stronger and brighter shine ; 
Nor present things, nor things to come, 
Shall quench the spark divine. 

Fastened within the vail, 
Hope be your anchor strong ; 
His loving Spirit the sweet gale 
That wafts you smooth along. 

Or, should the surges rise, 
And peace delay. to come, 
Blest is the sorrow, kind the storm, 
That drives us nearer home. 



4* 



82 FA VORITE HYMNS IN 

The people of His choice 
He will not cast away ; 
Yet do not always here expect 
On Tabor's mount to stay. 

When we in darkness walk, 
Nor feel the heavenly flame, 
Then is the time to trust our God, 
And rest upon His Name. 

Soon shall our doubts and fears 
Subside at His control ; 
His loving-kindness shall break through 
The midnight of the soul. 

No wonder, when His Love 
Pervades your kindling breast, 
You wish forever to retain 
The heart-transporting Guest. 

Yet learn, in every state, 
To make His will your own ; 
And, when the joys of sense depart, 
To walk by faith alone. 

By anxious fear depressed, 
When from the deep ye mourn, 
" Lord, why so hasty to depart, 
So tedious in return ? " 



THEJR ORIGINAL FORM. 83 



Still on His plighted Love 
At all events rely ; 
The very hidings of His face 
Shall train thee up to joy. 

Wait, till the shadows flee ; 
Wait thy appointed hour ; 
Wait, till the Bridegroom of thy soul 
Reveal His Love with power. 

The time of Love will come, 
When thou shalt clearly see, 
Not only that He shed His Blood, 
But that it flowed for thee ! 

Tarry His leisure, then, 
Although He seem to stay ; 
A moment's intercourse with Him 
Thy grief will overpay. 

Blest is the man, O God, 
That stays himself on Thee ! 
Who wait for Thy salvation, Lord, 
Shall Thy salvation see ! 

Augustus Montague Toplady, b. 1740, d. 1778. 



84 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 



L. 

FOREVER with the Lord ! 
Amen ! so let it be ! 
Life from the dead is in that word, 
'T is immortality ! 

Here in the body pent, 
Absent from Him I roam, 
Yet nightly pitch my moving tent 
A day's march nearer home. 

My Father's house on high, 
Home Of my soul! how near, 
At times, to faith's far-seeing eye, 
Thy golden gates appear . 

Ah ! then my spirit faints 
To reach the land I love, 
The bright inheritance of saints, 
Jerusalem above ! 

Yet clouds will intervene, 
And all my prospect flies ; 
Like Noah's dove, I flit between 
Rough seas and stormy skies. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 85 

Anon the clouds depart, 
The winds and waters cease ; 
While sweetly o'er my gladdened heart 
Expands the bow of peace ! 

Beneath its glowing arch, 
Along the hallowed ground, 
I see cherubic armies march, 
A camp of fire around. 

I hear at morn and even, 
At noon and midnight hour, 
The choral harmonies of Heaven 
Earth's Babel tongues o'erpower. 

Then, then I feel, that He, 
Remembered or forgot, 
The Lord, is never far from me, 
Though I perceive Plim not. 

James Montgomery, b. 1771, d. 1854. 



LI. 

SONGS of praise the angels sang, 
Heaven with hallelujahs rang, 
When Jehovah's work begun, 
When He spake and it was done. 



86 FA VORITE H YMNS IN 

Songs of praise awoke the morn, 
When the Prince of Peace was born ; 
Songs of praise awoke when He 
Captive led captivity. 

Heaven and earth must pass away, 
Songs of praise shall crown that day ; 
God will make new heavens, new earth, 
Songs of praise shall hail their birth. 

And can man alone be dumb, 
Till that glorious kingdom come ? 
No : the Church delights to raise 
Psalms, and hymns, and songs of praise. 

Saints below, with heart and voice, 
Still in songs of praise rejoice, 
Learning here, by faith and love, 
Songs of praise to sing above. 

Borne upon their latest breath, 
Songs of praise shall conquer death ; 
Then, amidst eternal joy, 
Songs of praise their powers employ. 

James Montgomery, b. 1771, d. 1854. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM 87 

LII. 

FRIEND after friend departs; 
Who hath not lost a friend? 
There is no union here of hearts, 

That finds not here an end : 
Were this frail world our only rest, 
Living or dying, none were blest. 

Beyond the flight of time, 

Beyond this vale of death, 
There surely is some blessed clime, 

Where life is not a breath, 
Nor life's affections transient fire, 
Whose sparks fly upwards to expire. 

There is a world above, 

Where parting is unknown; 
A whole eternity of love, 

Formed for the good alone : 
And faith beholds the dying here 
Translated to that happier sphere. 

Thus star by star declines 

Till all are passed away, 
As morning high and higher shines 

To pure and perfect day ; 
Nor sink those stars in empty night; 
They hide themselves in heaven's own light. 

James Montgomery, b. 1771, d. 1854. 



88 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

LIIL 

COME, let us join our cheerful songs 
With angels round the Throne ; 
Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, 
But all their joys are one. 

Worthy the Lamb that died," they cry, 
" To be exalted thus ! " 
" Worthy the Lamb ! " our lips reply, 
" For He was slain for us." 

Jesus is worthy to receive 

Honor and power divine, 
And blessings, more than we can give, 

Be, Lord, forever Thine, 

Let all that dwell above the sky, 

And air, and earth, and seas, 
Conspire to lift Thy glories high, 

And speak Thine endless praise. 

The whole Creation join in one 

To bless the sacred Name 
Of Him, that sits upon the Throne, 

And to adore the Lamb ! 

Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 89 



LIV. 

TUST as I am, without one plea 
But that Thy Blood was shed for me, 
And that Thou bidd'st me come to Thee, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am, and waiting not 
To rid my soul of one dark blot, 
To Thee, whose Blood can cleanse each spot, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am, though tossed about 
With many a conflict, many a doubt, 
Fightings and fears within, without, 
O Lamb of Gocl, I come ! 

Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind, 
Sight, riches, healing of the mind, 
Yea, all I need, in Thee to find, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am, Thou wilt receive, 
Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve ! 
Because Thy promise I believe, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 



90 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

Just as I am, (Thy Love unknown 
Has broken every barrier down,) 
Now, to be Thine, yea, Thine alone, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am, of that free love 
The breadth, length, depth, and height to prove, 
Here for a season, then above, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Charlotte Elliott, b. 1789, d. 1871. 



LV. 

HOW gentle God's commands, 
How kind His precepts are ! 
Come, cast your burdens on the Lord, 
And trust His constant care. 

While Providence supports, 
Let saints securely dwell ; 
That Hand, which bears all Nature up, 
Shall guide His children well. 

Why should this anxious load 
Press down your weary mind ? 
Haste to your Heavenly Father's throne, 
And sweet refreshment find. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 91 

His goodness stands approved 
Down to the present day ; 
I'll drop my burden at His feet, 
And bear a song away. 

Philip Doddridge, b. 1702, d. 1751. 



LVI. 

THERE is a land of pure delight, 
Where saints immortal reign, 
Infinite day excludes the night, 
And pleasures banish pain. 

There everlasting spring abides, 
And never withering flowers ; 

Death, like a narrow sea, divides 
This heavenly land from ours. 

Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood 
Stand dressed in living green : 

So to the Jews old Canaan stood, 
While Jordan rolled between. 

But timorous mortals start and shrink 

To cross this narrow sea, 
And linger shivering on the brink, 

And fear to launch away. 



92 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

O, could we make our doubts remove, 

These gloomy doubts that rise, 
And see the Canaan that we love 

With unbeclouded eyes, — 

Could we but climb where Moses stood; 

And view the landscape o'er, — 
Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood, 

Should fright us from the shore. 

Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. 

LYII. 

ALL hail the power of Jesus' name! 
Let angels prostrate fall ; 
Bring forth the royal diadem, 
And crown Him Lord of all ! 

Let high-born seraphs tune the lyre, 

And, as they tune it, fall 
Before His face, who tunes their choir, 

And crown Him Lord of all ! 

Crown Him, ye morning stars of light, 

Who fixed this floating ball ; 
Now hail the strength of Israel's might, 

And crown Him Lord of all ! 

Crown Him, ye morning stars of light ! 
He fixed this floating ball ; 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 93 

Now hail the strength of Israel's might, 
And crown Him Lord of all ! 

Crown Him, ye martyrs of our God, 

Who from His altar call ! 
Extol the Stem of Jesse's rod, 

And crown Him Lord of all ! 

Ye seed of Israel's chosen race, 

Ye ransomed of the fall, 
Hail Him who saved you by His grace, 

And crown Him Lord of all ! 

Hail Him, ye heirs of David's line, 

Whom David Lord did call ; 
The God incarnate, Man Divine, 

And crown Him Lord of all ! 

Sinners, whose love can ne'er forget 

The wormwood and the gall, 
Go spread your trophies at His feet, 

And crown Him Lord of all ! 

Let every tribe and every tongue 

That hear the Saviour's call, 
Now shout in universal song, 

And crown Him Lord of all ! 

Rev. Edward Peironet, d. 1792. 



94 FA VORITE H YMNS IN 



LVIII. 

LOVE Divine, all loves excelling, 
Joy of Heaven, to earth come down, 
Fix in us Thy humble dwelling, 

All Thy faithful mercies crown. 
Jesus, Thou art all compassion, — 

Pure, unbounded love Thou art ; 
Visit us with Thy salvation, 
Enter every trembling heart. 

Breathe, O breathe Thy loving Spirit 

Into every troubled breast ! 
Let us all in Thee inherit, 

Let us find that second rest. 
Take away the love of sinning; 

Alpha and Omega be ; 
End of faith, as its beginning, 

Set our hearts at liberty. 

Come, Almighty to deliver ! 

Let us all Thy life receive ; 
Suddenly return, and never, 

Never more Thy temples leave. 
Thee we would be always blessing, 

Serve Thee as Thy host above ; 
Pray, and praise Thee without ceasing, 

Glory in Thy perfect love. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 95 

Finish, then, Thy new creation ; 

Pure and spotless let it be ; 
Let us see Thy great salvation 

Perfectly secured by Thee, — 
Changed from glory into glory, 

Till in heaven we take our place, — 
Till we cast our crowns before Thee, 

Lost in wonder, love, and praise ! 

Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1788. 



LIX. 

ONE there is, above all others, 
Well deserves the name of friend ; 
His is love beyond a brother's, 

Costly, free, and knows no end : 
They who once His kindness prove, 
Find it everlasting love. 

Which of all our friends to save us, 
Could or would have shed their blood ? 

But our Jesus died to have us 
Reconciled in Him to God : 

This was boundless love indeed, 

Jesus is a friend in need. 

Men, when raised to lofty stations, 
Often know their friends no more; 



96 FAVORITE HYMNS IX 

Slight and scorn their poor relations, 
. Though they valued them before : 
But our Saviour always owns 
Those w T hom He redeemed with groans. 

When He lived on earth abased, 
Friend of sinners was His name ; 

Now, above all glory raised, 
He rejoices in the same : 

Still He calls them brethren, friends, 
And to all their wants attends. 

Could we bear from one another 

What He daily bears from us ? 
Yet this glorious Friend and Brother 

Loves us, though we treat him thus : 
Though for good we render ill, 
He accounts us brethren still. 

Oh ! for grace our hearts to soften ; 

Teach us, Lord, at length to love. 
We, alas, forget too often 

What a Friend we have above ; 
But, when home our souls are brought, 

We will love Thee as we ought. 

John Neiv^n, b. 1725, d. 1807. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORZL 97 



LX. 

SING to the Lord with joyful voice ; 
Let ev'ry land His name adore ; 
The northern isles shall send the noise 
Across the ocean to the shore. 

Nations attend before His throne 
With solemn fear, with sacred joy : 

Know that the Lord is Gocl alone ; 
He can create, and He destroy. 

Before Jehovah's awful throne, 
Ye nations, bow with sacred joy : 

Know that the Lord is God alone ; 
He can create, and He destroy. 

His sovereign power, without our aid, 
Made us of clay, and formed us men ; 

And when, like wand'ring sheep, we strayed, 
He brought us to His fold again. 

We are His people, we His care, 
Our souls, and all our mortal frame ; 

What lasting honors shall we rear, 
Almighty Maker, to Thy name ? 
5 



98 FA VORITE HYMNS IN 

We'll crowd Thy gates with thankful songs, 
High as the heavens our voices raise ; 

And earth, with her ten thousand tongues, 
Shall fill Thy courts with sounding praise. 

Wide as the world is Thy command, 

Vast as eternity, Thy love : 
Firm as a rock Thy truth must stand, 

When rolling years shall cease to move. 

Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. 



LXI. 

TRIUMPHANT Zion ! lift thy head 
From dust and darkness and the dead ; 
Though humbled long, awake at length, 
And gird thee with thy Saviour's strength. 

Put all thy beauteous garments on, 
And let thy various charras be known : 
The world thy glories shall confess, 
Decked in the robes of righteousness. 

No more shall foes unclean invade, 
And fill thy hallowed walls with dread ; 
No more shall hell's insulting host 
Their vict'ry and thy sorrows boast. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 99 

God, from on high, thy groans will hear; 
His hand thy ruins shall repair; 
Reared and adorned by love Divine, 
Thy towers and battlements shall shine. 

Grace shall dispose my heart and voice 
To share and echo back her joys : 
Nor w^ill her watchful Monarch cease 
To guard her in eternal peace. 

Philip Doddridge, b. 1702, d. 1751. 



LXII. 

GOD is the refuge of His saints, 
When storms of sharp distress invade ; 
Ere we can offer our complaints, 
Behold Him present with His aid. 

Let mountains from their seats be hurled 
Down to the deep, and buried there ; 

Convulsions shake the solid world ; 
Our faith shall never yield to fear. 

Loud may the troubled ocean roar ; 

In sacred peace our souls abide ; 
While every nation, every shore, 

Trembles and dreads the swelling tide. 



100 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

There is a stream, whose gentle flow 

Supplies the city of our God, 
Life, love, and joy, still gliding through, 

And watering our divine abode. 

That sacred stream, Thine holy word, 
That all my raging fear controls : 

Sweet peace Thy promises afford, 

And give new strength to fainting souls. 

Zion enjoys her Monarch's love, 
Secure against a threatening hour ; 

Nor can her firm foundations move, 

Built on His truth and armed with power. 

Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. 



LXin. 

AMAZING grace! (how sweet the sound !) 
That saved a wretch like me ; 
I once was lost, but now am found, 
Was blind, but now I see. 

'T was grace that taught my heart to fear, 

And grace my fears relieved : 
How precious did that grace appear, 

The hour I first believed ! 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 101 

Through many clangers, toils, and snares, 

T have already come ; 
'T is grace has brought me safe thus far, 

And grace will lead me home. 

The Lord has promised good to me, 

His word my hope secures : 
He will my shield and portion be 

As long as life endures. 

Yes ! when this flesh and heart shall fail, 

And mortal life shall cease, 
I shall possess, within the veil, 

A life of joy and peace. 

The earth shall soon dissolve like snow, 

The sun forbear to shine : 
But God, who called me here below, 

Will be forever mine. 

John Newton, b. 1725, d. 1807 



Lxm. 

OH, help us, Lord ! — each hour of need 
Thy heavenly succor give ; 
Help us in thought, and word, and deed, 
Each hour on earth we live. 



102 FAVORITE HYMNS IN 

Oh, help us when our spirits bleed, 

With contrite anguish sore ; 
And when our hearts are cold and dead, 

Oh, help us, Lord, the more ! 

Oh, help us through the prayer of faith, 

More firmly to believe ! 
For still the more the servant hath, 

The more shall he receive. 

If strangers to Thy fold we call, 

Imploring at Thy feet 
The crumbs that from Thy table fall, 

'T is all we dare entreat. 

But be it, Lord of mercy, all, 

So Thou wilt grant but this : 
The crumbs that from Thy table fall, 

Are life, and light, and bliss. 

Oh, help us, Jesus ! from on "high ; 

We know no help but Thee ; 
Oh, help us so to live and die, 

As thine in heaven to be ! 

Henry Hart Milman, b. 1791, d. 1868. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM* 103 



LXIV. 

e1 OW in the morn thy seed, 
J At eve hold not thy hand ; 
To doubt and fear give thou no heed ; 
Broad-cast it o'er the land ! 

Beside all waters sow, 

The highway furrows stock, 

Drop it where thorns and thistles grow, 
Scatter it on the rock. 

The good, the fruitful ground, 

Expect not here nor there, 
O'er hill and dale, by plots, 't is found, 

Go forth, then, everywhere. 

Thou know'st not which may thrive, 

The late or early sown : 
Grace keeps the precious germs alive, 

When and wherever strown. 

Then duly shall appear, 

In verdure, beauty, strength, 

The tender blade, the stalk, the ear, 
And the full corn at length. 



104 FA VORITE H YMNS IN 

Thou canst not toil in vain ; 

Cold, heat, and moist and dry 
Shall foster and mature the grain 

For garners in the sky. 

Thence, when the glorious end, 

The day of God, is come, 
The angel reapers shall descend, 

And Heaven cry — Harvest-home ! 

James Montgomery, b. 1771, d. 1854. 



LXV. 

HARK ! the herald angels sing, 
" Glory to the new-born King ! 
Peace on earth, and mercy mild ; 
God to man is reconciled." 

Joyful, all ye nations, rise ; 
Join the triumphs of the skies ; 
With th' angelic host proclaim, 
" Christ is born in Bethlehem." 

Christ, by highest heaven adored ; 
Christ, the everlasting Lord : 
Late in time behold Him come, 
Offspring of a Virgin's womb. 



THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 105 

Veiled in flesh the Godhead see ! 
Hail the incarnate Deity ! 
Pleased as man with man to appear, 
Jesus, our Immanuel here ! 

Hail, the heaven-born Prince of Peace ! 
Hail, the Sun of Righteousness ! 
Light and life to all He brings, 
Risen with healing in His wings. 

Mild He lavs His glory by ; 
Born that man no more may die ; 
Born to raise the sons of earth ; 
Born to give them second birth. 

Bishop Reginald Heber, b. 1783, d. 1826. 



LXVI. 

SEE Israel's gentle Shepherd stands 
With all-engaging charms ; 
Hark, how He calls the tender lambs, 
And f jlds them in His arms ! 

" Permit them to approach,'' He cries, 
" Nor scorn their humble name ; 

For 't was to bless such souls as these, 
The Lord of angels came." 
5* 



106 THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 

We bring them, Lord, in thankful hands, 

And yield them up to Thee ; 
Joyful that we ourselves are Thine, — 

Thine let our offspring be. 

Ye little flock, with pleasure hear ; 

Ye children, seek His face ; 
And fly with transport to receive 

The blessings of His grace. 

If orphans they are left behind, 

Thy guardian care we trust : 
•That care shall heal our bleeding hearts, 

If weeping o'er their dust. 

Philip Doddridge, b. 1702, d. 1751. 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 



PAGE. 

Abide with me ! fast falls the even tide. — Henry Francis Lyte. 76 

All hail the power of Jesus' name. — Rev. Edward Perronet. 92 

All praise to Thee, my God, this night. — Bishop Thomas Ken. 65 

Amazing grace ! (how sweet the sound !) — John Newton. 100 

As when the weary traveller gains. — John Newton. 6 

Christ the Lord is risen to-day. — Charles Wesley. 18 

Christ, whose glory fills the skies. — Charles Wesley. 64 

Come, Holy Spirit, come. — Joseph Hart. 28 

Come, let us join our cheerful songs. — Isaac Watts. 88 

Come, my soul, thy suit prepare. — John Newton. 48 

Come, O thou Traveller unknown. — Charles Wesley. 70 

Come, we that love the Lord. — Isaac Watts. 32 

Commit thou all thy griefs. — John Wesley. 78 

Father, I know that all my life. — Anna Loetitia Waring. 56 

Forever with the Lord. — James Montgomery. 84 

Friend after friend departs. — James Montgomery. 87 

From Greenland's icy mountains. — Bishop Reginald Heber. 27 

Glorious things of Thee are spoken. — John Newton. 30 

God is the refuge of His saints. — Isaac Watts. 99 

Hail to the Lord's Anointed. — James Montgomery. 23 

Hark! the herald angels sing. — Bishop Reginald Heber. 104 

How gentle God's commands.— Philip Doddridge. 90 

How sweet the name of Jesus sounds. — John Neivton. 12 

Jesu, lover of my soul. — Charles Wesley. 62 

Jesus, cast a look on me. — John Berridge. 60 

(107) 



108 INDEX OF FIRST LINES* 

PAGE. 

Jesus, I love Thy charming name. — Phihp Doddridge. 74 

Jesus, I my cross have taken. — Henry Francis Lyte. 74 

Jesus shall reign where'er the sun. — Isaac Watts. 25 

Jesus, where'er Thy people meet. — William Cowper. 34 

Join all the glorious names. — Isaac Watts. 20 

Just as I am, without one plea. — Charlotte Elliott. 89 

Let me but hear my Saviour say. — Isaac Watts. 15 

Love Divine, all loves excelling. — Charles Wesley. 94 

My faith looks up to Thee. — Ray Palmer. 49 

My soul, repeat His praise. — Isaac Watts. 35 

Not all the blood of beasts. — Isaac Watts. 10 
Oh, help us, Lord ! — each hour of need. — Henry Hart Milman. 1 01 

O for a heart to praise my God. — Charles Wesley. 52 

O for a thousand tongues to sing. — Charles Wesley. 11 

God of Jacob, by whose hand. — Philip Doddridge. 5 

One sweetly solemn thought. — Phoebe Cary. 8 

One there is above all others. — John Newton. 95 

Our God, our help in ages past.— Isaac Watts. 42 

Plunged in a gulf of dark despair. — Isaac Watts. 16 

Prayer is the soul's sincere desire. — James Montgomery. 44 

Quiet, Lord, my froward heart. — John Newton. 59 

Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings. — Robert Seagrave. 41 

See Israel's gentle Shepherd stands. — Philip Doddridge. 105 

Sing to the Lord with joyful voice. — Isaac Watts. 97 

Songs of praise the angels sang. — James Montgomery. 85 

Sow in the morn thy seed. — James Montgomery. 103 

Sun of my soul, Thou Saviour dear. — John Keble. 67 

Sweet is the work, my God, my King. — Isaac Watts. 69 

The Lord my Shepherd is. — Isaac Watts. 61 

There is a fountain filled with blood. — Augustus Montague 7 

Toplady. 37 

There is a land of pure delight. — Isaac Watts. 91 

Thy way, not mine, O Lord. — Horahus Bonar. 55 



INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 109 

PAGE. 

Triumphant Zion ! lift thy head. — Philip Doddridge. 98 

*T is my happiness below. — William Coiuper. 7 

When all Thy mercies, O my God. — Joseph Addison. 45 

"When I survey life's varied scenes. — Anne Steele. 53 

When I survey the wondrous cross. — Isaac Watts: 13 

Why do we mourn departing friends. — Isaac Watts. 39 

Ye servants of the Lord. — Philip Doddridge. 31 
Your harps ye trembling saints. — Augustus Montague 

Toplady. , 81 



BIOGRAPHICAL INDEX. 



Addisov, Joseph, son of the Rev. Lancelot Addison, Rector 
of Milston, afterwards Dean of Litchfield ; born at Milston rec- 
tory, near Araesbuiy, in Wiltshire, 1 May, 1672 ; was made Sec- 
retary of State, 1717; died 17 June, 1719. His hymns appeared 
in the Saturday papers of the Spectator during 1712. 

Berridge, John, son of a wealthy farmer; born at Kingston, 
Nottinghamshire, 1 March, 1716; became Vicar of Everton, 
1755; died 22 January, 1793. His hymns, which were often 
adaptations of others already in existence, appeared in " Sion's 
Songs • or Hymns Composed for the Use of them that love and 
follow the Lord Jesus Christ in Sincerity" (1785). 

Bonar, Horatius, D. D., son of James Bonar; born at Edin- 
burgh, 19 December, 1808; Minister of the Erse Church of 
Scotland at Kelso, and now at Grange, Edinburgh. His hymns 
appeared in " Hymns of Eaith and Hope," 1st Series, 1857 ; 2d 
Series, 1861 ; 3d Series, 1866. 

Car y, Phcebe, born in Hamilton County, Ohio, in 1825; died 
at Newport, R. I., 31 July, 1871. Her " Poems and Parodies" 
were published in 1854. 

Cowper, William, of the Inner Temple, son of the Rev. 
John Cowper, D. D., Rector of Berkhampstead, Hertfordshire; 
bora at the Rectory, 15 November, 1731 ; died at East Dereham, 
25 April, 1800. He united with Newton in writing the " Olney 
Hymns" (1779), to which he contributed 67 out of 340. 

(Ill) 



112 BIOGRAPHICAL INDEX. 

Doddridge, Philip, D. D., son of an oilman in London ; 
born in London, 26 June, 1702; Pastor of the Congregational 
Church at Northampton, and Principal of the Theological Acad- 
emy there; died at Lisbon, 26 October, 1751. His hymns were 
circulated in manuscript during his life, but it was not till 1755 
that they were published, 364 in all, as " Hymns Founded on Va- 
rious Texts in the Holy Scriptures." 

Hart, Joseph, the son of pious parents ; born in London, 
1712; Minister of the Congregational Church in Jewin Street 
Chapel, London ; died in London, 24 May, 1768. His "Hymns 
Composed on Various Subjects" appeared in 1759 (second edi- 
tion, with Supplement, 1762). 

Heber, Reginald, D. D., son of Reginald Heber, Rector of 
Malpas, Cheshire; born at Malpas, 21 April, 1783; Bishop of 
Calcutta, 1823 ; died at Trichinopoly, 2 April, 1826. His hymns 
appeared in the Christian Observer (1811), "Hymns Written and 
Adapted to the Weekly Church Service of the Year" (1827), ed- 
ited by his widow; and were collected (to the number of fifty- 
seven) in his "Poetical Works" (1842). 

Keble, John, M. A., son of the Rev. John Keble, Rector of 
Coin S. Aldwyn, Gloucestershire; born at Fairford, Gloucester- 
shire, 22 April, 1792; Vicar of Hursley ; died at Bournemouth, 
29 March, 1866. His hymns appeared in the Christian Year 
(1827), "Lyra Apostolica (1836), Lyra Innocentium (1846), Mis- 
cellaneous Poems (1857)," etc. 

Ken, Thomas, D. P., son of Thomas Ken, attorney, of Furni- 
vaFs Inn ; born at Little Berkhampstead, of Hertfordshire, July, 
1637 ; Bishop of Bath and Wells, 16S5; one of the seven Bish- 
ops committed to the Tower, 1688 ; deprived of his See as a Non. 
juror, 1691 ; died 19 March, 1711, at Longleate. His Morning, 
Evening, and Midnight Hymns appeared in the edition of his 
" Manual of Prayers for the Use of the Scholars of Winchester 
College" (1674), published in 1697. 



BIOGRA PHICAL INDEX. 1 1 3 

Lyte, Henry Francis, M. A., son of Captain Thomas Lyte; 
born at Ednam, near Kelso, 1 June, 1793; Perpetual Curate of 
Lower Brixham, Devonshire; died at Nice, 20 November, 1847. 
His hymns appeared in "Poems Chiefly Religious "(1833), 
"Miscellaneous Poems" (1868), and "The Spirit of the Psalms" 
(1834; 5th edition, corrected and enlarged, 1841). 

Milmax, Henry Hart, D. D., son of Sir Prancis Milman, a 
physician, born in London, 10 February, 1791 ; Dean of St. 
Paul's; died at Sunningfield, near Ascot, 24 September, 1868. 
His hymns appeared in " Hymns adapted to the Weekly Church 
Service of the Year," edited by Mrs. Heber" (1827) ; and in " A 
Selection of Psalms and Hymns for the use of St. Margaret's, 
Westminster (1837). 

Montgomery, James, son of the Rev. John Montgomery, a 
Moravian Minister settled in Ireland ; born at Irvine, in Ayr- 
shire, 4 November, 1771; editor of the Sheffield Iris; died at 
Sheffield, 30 April, 1 854. His hymns appeared in " Songs of Zion, 
being Imitations of [fifty-six of the] Psalms" (1822); "The 
Christian Psalmist" (1825; 3d edition, 1826); " Original 
Hymns for Public, Private, and Social Devotion " (1853). 

Newton, John, son of a sea-captain ; born in London, 24 
July, 1725; Curate of Olney, Bucks, and afterwards Rector of S. 
Mary Woolnoth, London ; died 21 December, 1807. His hymns 
appeared in the " Olney Hymns" (1779). 

Palmer, Ray, D. D., son of the Hon. Thomas Palmer, Judge 
in Rhode Island ; born at Little Compton, Rhode Island, U. S., 
12 November, 1808; Pastor of the Congregational Church at 
Albany, and now Secretary of the Congregational Union, at New 
York. His "Hymns and Sacred Pieces " appeared in 1865; and 
his hymns also appeared in " Lowell Mason's Collection " (1832), 
and " Hymns of my Holy Hours " (1867). 

Perronet, Edward, son of Rev. Vincent Perronet, Vicar of 
Shoreham ■ a preacher with the Wesleys, afterwards with Lady 



114 BIOGRAPHICAL INDEX. 

Huntington, then to a small congregation unattached: died 
January, 1793. His hymns appeared in " Occasional Verses, 
Moral and Sacred" (1785). 

Seagraye, Robert, was born at Twyford, Leicester, hire in 
1693. He studied at Cambridge, graduated in 1718. In 1739 
he was appointed Sunday evening lecturer at Lorimer's Hall, 
London, lie afterwards preached in the Tabernacles in connec- 
tion with the Calvanistic Methodists. The date of his death is 
unknown. He published some treatises on doctiinal subjects, and on 
the duties of the ministry. In 1 742 he published " Hymns for Chris- 
tian Worship. His hymns were published by Sedgwick in 1860. 

Steele, Anne, daughter of William Steele, a timber merchant, 
who also ministered to the Baptist Church at Broughton, Hamp- 
shire; boru at Broughton in 1717; died at Broughton, after a 
life of suffering, in November, 1778. Her " Poems and Hymns" 
were published under the assumed name of Theodosia, and in 1863 
the " Hymns, Psalms, and Poems " previously scattered through 
many publications, were issued by Mr. Sedgwick in one volume. 

Toplady, Augustus Montague, son of Major Toplady ; born 
at Farnham, Surrey, 4 November, 1740; Vicar of Broad Hcmbu- 
ry, Devonshire ; died at Knightsbridge, London, 11 August, 1778. 
His hymns (about a hundred and sixteen) appeared in " Poems 
on Sacred Subjects" (1759), the "Gospel Magazine" (1770- 
1776), and elsewhere, and have been re-publishad in a complete 
edition by Mr. Sedgwick (1860). 

Waring, Anna L^etitia, daughter of Elijah Waring; born 
at Neath, Glamorganshire. Her hymns have appeared in 
"Hymns and Meditations" by A. L. W. (1850), "Additional 
Hymns" (1858), and in the Sunday Magazine" (1871). 

Watts, Isaac, D. D., son of a schoolmaster at Southampton; 
born at Southampton, 17 July, 1674; Minister of the Congrega- 
tional Church at Berry Street, London ; has been called the 
father of English hymnody ; died at Stoke Newington, 25 No- 



BIOGRAPHICAL INDEX. 115 

vember, 1748. His hymns appeared in "Horse Lyriece" (1706) ; 
"Hymns and Spiritual Songs" (1707; enlarged edition, 1709); 
"Divine Songs for Children" ( 1 71 5 J) ; "The Psalms of David 
imitated in the Language of the New Testament, and applied to 
the Christian State and Worship" (1719) ; and appended to his 
Sermons. 

Wesley, Charles, M. A., son of Samuel Wesley, Rector of 
Epworth, Lincolnshire; born at Epworth, 18 December, 1708; 
was missionary (in Georgia, U. S.) of the Society for the Propa- 
gation of the Gospel ; united with his brother John in preaching ; 
became the poet of Methodism ; died in London, 29 March, 1788. 
His hymns (over six thousand) appeared in : — "A Collection of 
Psalms and Hymns" by John Wesley (1738), " Hymns and Sa- 
cred Poems" (1739, 1740, 1742, 1749,1756), "Hymns on God's 
Everlasting Love " (1741), "Hymns for the Watch Nights (1744), 
"Hymns for Times of Trouble and Persecution " (1744, 1745), 
"Hymns on the Lord's Supper" (1745), "Hymns for the Nativ- 
ity of Our Lord" (2d cd., 1745, 1772), "Hymns for those that 
Seek, and those that have Found, Redemption in the Blood of 
Jesus Christ" (1746), "Hymns for our Lord's Resurrection" 
(1746,) "Hymns for our Lord's Ascension" (1746), "Hymns 
for New Year's Day" (1750-1788), Hymns of Intercession for 
all Mankind" (1758), Funeral Hymns" (1759), " Short Hymns" 
(two thousand one hundred and forty-five) on Select Passages 
of the Holy Scriptures" (1762), "Hymns for Children, and 
Others of Riper Years " (1763). 

Wesley, John, M. A., son of the Rev. Samuel Wesley, Rector 
of Epworth, Lincolnshire; born at Epworth, 17 June, 1703; 
Curate at Epworth ; afterwards founder of Methodism ; died in 
London, 2 March, 179L His hymns, which were mostly transla- 
tions from the German, appeared in his " Collection of Psalms 
and Hymns," the original (1738), and subsequent editions. He 
translated twenty nine from the German, two from the French, 
and one from the Spanish., a language he learned in America. 



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